


Man in lace

by Milestogo56 (Pink_boxers_rainbow)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Businessman!kakashi, Lapdance, M/M, Stripper!Naruto, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_boxers_rainbow/pseuds/Milestogo56
Summary: Naruto is a jovial stripper, Kakashi is a repressed businessman who accidentally stumbled into the strip club and fell for him.The start of a quaint love story.(Inspired by a story I read years ago and can't find anymore)
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Man in lace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Une_fleur_ma_dit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Une_fleur_ma_dit/gifts), [laverna_aurelius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laverna_aurelius/gifts), [Arrveolantrath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrveolantrath/gifts).



> A LATE new year gift! pls check out the stories written by these peeps!

The hole in the wall is usually hard to find, unless you're particularly looking for it. There is no sign board, no lights decorating the clunky iron doors, and almost no sound that would worry the passerby. It’s not a place anybody would visit, unless it’s after dark and the road in-front of the establishment is vibrating. Kakashi doesn’t understand how he got here, or how he keeps getting here every night after work since the spring festival--because the place wasn’t pretty, or cheap, or quiet. It wasn’t amicable. It wasn’t a place for Kakashi to casually stroll into, and definitely not a place the man decides to get trashed. Maybe he saw the gaping door, the purple glow from the far off distance, the cloggy smell of irish beer and realized it might be a place that will swallow him up. Just,  _ Anything _ . 

Regardless of the circumstance, Kakashi didn’t regret his actions, not for one single second. The first thing Kakashi’s eyes had lingered on when he entered the ruinous, smoky club was a blond man on the stage, in an orange g-string, gyrating his hips to the bastardly rhythm, vicious blue eyes glowing in the night light as he watched Kakashi like a predator. Kakashi had flushed, feeling naked among the throngs of salivating men--as if he were on stage instead. But he didn’t turn back. 

* * *

"Mmh, so." Naruto, first and foremost, was the greatest connoisseur of everything ramen. That's the first thing the younger man told him back at the club, and Kakashi couldn't shake off the feeling that he wasn't lying. "I know this place has the best ramen, just trust me. "

Kakashi nodded sagely, looking at his watch. "At 3am?" 

"Yeah? I know--" Naruto counted off his fingers, slender but thicker than the older man's, tanner and much more...homely. "--Maybe all the places open at 3am."

"Maa, do you have any proof?" Kakashi loosened his collar, stuffing the tie inside the briefcase. Beside Naruto, who was wearing an ornate orange jumpsuit of sort, Kakashi appeared over-dressed. 

A laughter bubbled out of Naruto's mouth, his lips still cherry red from all the makeup he had applied. Kakashi wants to rub it off but stays frozen, hands bunched inside his pockets. 

Then Naruto started listing all the places he knows are still open, Kakashi wouldn't know if any of the places listed are still open or are even _ real _ . But by the time Naruto is ten names in Kakashi is reduced to a giggling drunkard, eyes tearing up with mirth and feeling as if he lost a part of himself. He can't control how his body moves, latching onto Naruto's arm shamelessly to keep upright and Naruto ( _ he is a stripper _ ) grins proudly, putting his warm, homely hands on Kakashi's back. Kakashi is a banker, and he is getting a bit hysteric. Maybe Kakashi is getting old but  _ he is a stripper,  _ and the thought still boggles him a little, _ an honest to god fucking stripper.  _ And they are going to have ramen together. 

The place, Ichiraku, is just a small stall with stools placed haphazardly. Naruto slides into one with the grace of a fallen Ballerina and eyes Kakashi, who follows suit. He insists on paying, this time, and places the order for both of them. Then they eat the ‘world’s best ramen’. Kakashi can’t disagree, but he waits until Naruto’s finished slurping on his third bowl to tell him so. 

“It’s nice,” Kakashi says, putting his mask back on. 

Naruto’s eyes glinted--blue, unending and merciful--sizing up the business-man. “Just nice?”

“Better than what I would expect from fast food stalls.” Kakashi wanted to validate Naruto’s choice but felt his chronic assholery holding him back. 

“I’ll take it over any fancy scam-y restaurant out there.” 

Kakashi looks at Naruto licking his fingers clean and wonders if he is right. They don’t talk much, but it’s not awkward--familiar almost, as if this isn’t the first time they are eating out at 3am. The stall doesn’t have much space so Naruto is close enough to lean onto Kakashi’s shoulder as he completed a fourth bowl, then another. He wasn’t lying, the older man concluded. 

It would be nice if Kakashi could look at him without being constantly reminded that Naruto was a stripper, like a bright neon sign on his forehead. 

They walk back together and it surprised Kakashi slightly that Naruto lives not far away from his apartment, a suburban neighborhood but of course--just like Kakashi, he was successful in his career--maybe even earning much more than him. They bump into each other while strolling and Naruto giggles as he tells him about a client from Suna and then abruptly changes the subject to how he hates vegetables. It’s weird. 

“No wonder you’re short.” Kakashi snorted. 

Naruto’s face is very expressive. “Just by two inches, which is not much, bastard.” 

Then, he shakes out a pack of cigarettes, holding it up for Kakashi. “Want one?”

“Sorry, I am trying to quit.” Kakashi shook his head. Then, because he likes sticking his foot in his mouth, he adds: “It’s not good for you.” 

Naruto watched him with incredulity but moments later it melts away with his eyes crinkling and mouth stretching into a pleased grin, “I can’t help it, it’s in the stripper manifesto. They give us a little book when we start.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Of course, idiot.” He bumps his shoulder into Kakashi again, laughing louder. If it wasn’t the touch and then it’s the sound that makes Kakashi run hotter; consciously he grabs his own face to see if it’s covered. Naruto is surprisingly tactile, if not seductive but it shouldn’t be. Nights after Nights being touched by strangers might do that to you, although it didn’t look like the blond man minded. If it were Kakashi, he would try to keep some distance--just to get some control back, trying not to let the work swallow him up whole. 

They stopped at the crosswalk when it was time to part ways. Naruto's inconsistent babble comes to an end as he shuffles a bit closer, ears red. Kakashi was frozen, trying to appear impassive, as if his heart wasn’t running a mile per second. Then, twin blue eyes look directly at him with the same intensity as the first day Kakashi entered the club. “Next friday again, then?” He huffs while asking.

Kakashi nodded, then remembered to reply. “Yes, sure.” 

“Cool,” Naruto smiled brightly “Good night, Kakashi.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

The first time Kakashi saw him dance, he knew that Naruto was special. All of the dancers that come before him have been perfunctory and cliché, nothing more than what they had to do--a cowboy, a cop, another figure of authority--but Naruto came out as a ninja,  _ an orange ninja _ . In the subdued colors of the club, he appeared loud and ferocious. The women loved it, and so did the men. He jumped around the stage, sometimes grinding his hips on poles in the middle. He is graceful, and touchy--he touches all of them, if not his hands then his eyes. And he is  _ alive _ . It’s different to Kakashi because most of the acts he has seen are morbidly plain. Naruto takes stripping to the level of Gene kelly--if Gene had the habit of stripping while dancing. Somewhere in his act he brings out a kunai, hopefully fake, and puts it against a man he called up on the stage and then Kakashi can’t look. 

Naruto takes it  _ all  _ off, and of course, even fully clad he was sexy but now he was golden, hard muscles moving with the music and the only thing he wore was a matching g-string. The audience screamed. By this time, Kakashi had left. 

He always leaves before Naruto’s act ends. When the man on the stage turns around, coyly looking over as he pulls down the orange tracksuit, Kakashi agrees with his logical side that it was for the best. That, this was the last time or he might just kneel over one day. 

Except, he comes back. Each week. 

Kakashi tried to find a justification, first he is always at the bar which is far from the stage. He isn’t the type to throw money at what he liked but being cautious was good. Second, he always left before Naruto’s routine ended, before all the dancers came out to give their clients a personal one-on-one session. He is not ashamed--which is a lie. No matter how enticing and beautiful Naruto makes the art of stripping, Kakashi cannot consciously condone himself. He felt as if he were peeking through someone’s window, belonging somewhere he was not meant to. It doesn’t matter that Kakashi ached to get closer, to touch him, to talk to him, to look into Naruto’s eyes and make him see  _ Kakashi _ . He always went back home, always guilty, always lying awake in his bed thinking he won’t next week, that next week he will come home straight from work and watch tv, fall asleep peacefully without the smile of some stripper floating behind his eyelid.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for not updating sunflower. I am going through a bad writers block :( but i needed to write this


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